


Boy's Locker Room

by aeonzii



Series: Downtime (Apex Legends One Shots) [1]
Category: Apex Legends (Video Games)
Genre: Canon Non-Binary Character, Crushes, Fluff, Fluff and Humor, Fun, Gen, Hijinks & Shenanigans, Humor, Locker Room, No Romance, One Shot, Platonic Relationships, Slice of Life
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-01-14
Updated: 2020-01-14
Packaged: 2021-02-27 07:13:43
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,156
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22253215
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/aeonzii/pseuds/aeonzii
Summary: Training keeps your skills sharp and ready.After training, though, is a little bit different.
Series: Downtime (Apex Legends One Shots) [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1601944
Comments: 6
Kudos: 61





	Boy's Locker Room

"Oh, hoh, hoh, get my share and I'm the pervert?" Octane yelled at the stall, much to the dismay of the man in the shower. "The second you step out of there, you're getting what you deserve."

Mirage winced, casually shampooing his hair. "It was an accident! How was I supposed to know you were shirtless?"  
" _¡Excusas!_ You saw me in my most vulnerable and you didn't even take me to dinner. Abshot is at least a kiss on the cheek level."  
"I said I was sorry! Besides, no way your lips are touching my perfect, sensitive skin. Now, I'm an open-minded guy and if you're _that_ affected by it, I'd be more than happy to take you out to dinner to consempate. Condem-- cos-- cont-- compensate! Compensate."  
"Then do it, _cobarde_." He clicked his tongue and tipped his head upwards to Crypto, grounding coffee beans on a bench with a mortar and pestle made of Leviathan bones. He replicated. Octane went back to his conversation. "Take me to dinner."

His feet tapped on the ground impatiently, arms crossed. To be fair, at least, to Mirage, Octane had every right to feel slightly violated. Then again, it was hard not to look at a guy changing right in front of you. For Mirage. Not like he's gay or anything.

Caustic passed by the squabblers in his fit, gigantic stature. "Witt," he remarked, sipping on a mug of coffee from Bloodhound's fresh brew. He smacked his lips with a satisfied 'aah' before continuing, "your inability to surmise opportunity will be your downfall."

The man in the shower paused his cleaning. "Hey! Octavio is a great catch. Probably. I mean, if I was a babe, I'd date him, but not be in a relationship with him. Or as a dude, if he's lucky."

Gibraltar, carrying the pot used to brew his fellow legend's drink, found himself in the company of the toxic trapper. They stood beside the first row of cubicles meant for the storage of belongings for the fighters. It was perpendicular to the showers, adjacent to the vending machines. The mist from the hot water blurred their visions a slight bit, but considering the games, it wasn't too bad.

They observed the jarring interaction. Octane hoisted himself up the shower door, only to be met by a hologram of Mirage pushing him down. "Aii, either you _give me dinner_ or you _let me see_ without permission."  
  
Gibraltar burped. "Three hundred credits say Elliott asks first." He mused casually. Caustic scoffed.  
"I'm not one for petty, nonsensical, gambling."  
"Five hundred."  
"Witt is afraid of Silva's entropy, and as thus, will lie in wait for Silva's overt proposal. You have a deal."

On the benches in front of the vending machines, a television flared to life. Bloodhound and Crypto found themselves studying the replay of their fight. They silently commented on their mistakes, exchanging control of the remote to loop certain moves they knew they could have done differently. The crushed coffee pooled up on the filter paper Crypto finished working on.

It was always a mystery why Bloodhound never opted on a neutral shower room for themselves (and Pathfinder, maybe. Whether or not showers were okay for him, they wanted to figure out on their own). They settled instead for a storage cubicle in both the men and women's shower. Their cubicle, though, had a door that leads to either one. Both parties had no issue with it.

Bloodhound took the last of the crushed beans. Crypto's drone scurried over to Gibraltar, prompting him to return the pot for another brew.

On the screen, Wraith began performing a finisher on Wattson, nearly executing her only to be cut last second by her duo in the scrim: Bloodhound.

Their dark orange-tinted glasses faced up, seemingly mesmerized. Noticing the strange behavior, Crypto neatly folded the filter paper and looked up.

The technological tracker skipped through to every scene with Wraith on the feature. Every shot, every movement, every grenade, down, and 'kill' by Wraith overtook their senses.

Admiration was the name they gave the feeling. No matter what the others said it was, the relaxation and excitement they felt in seeing or talking to the fighter amounted only to an unexplainable sense of admiration.

"Wraith is performing... very competitively for a scrim," Crypto admitted, the legend in question eliminating Pathfinder and Bangalore while Octane was down on the screen.  
"Greatness grasps every opportunity." Bloodhound shrugged, readjusting the towel on their head. "Or she's a workaholic. I am not one to judge."

Octane, having had to be restrained by Gibraltar to avoid a Frontier wide lawsuit, piped up. "Yoo, if we're ogling over legends, Wattson is totally super adorable."

Everyone paused to look at the man dangling about 4 inches from the ground. Even Mirage, who had been showering, had to turn the water off. "Say that again?"

Octane cocked his head to the side, confused. "Wattson is totally super adorable-- what's so hard to understand?"

Gibraltar whistled low as Caustic glared daggers. Mirage let it go, continuing his bath. "Eh. Can't say you're wrong."

Caustic took another long, judgemental sip of coffee. He chuckled to himself, then coughed. "None of you are good enough for Natalie. You, Witt are proficient at holo-technology like your mother, but an egotistical, bumbling bufoon."

"I'm pretty sure you insulted me, but I'm gonna do you a 180 and take it as a compliment instead. So, thank you.

He turned to look at Octane. "You, Silva. Enough said."

"Ice cold, man."

"If anyone here were good enough, it would be the hacker."

Crypto, in the middle of buying a bar of chocolate from the vending machine, gave them a look. He glanced at all 3 men before snatching his candy and cautiously heading back to his seat.

"Intelligent. Reflective. Full of sense. Nothing less for a prodigy."

Gibraltar opened his arms wide, dropping the hyperactive legend. "So you _do_ have emotions! Oh, wait till Ajay hears this."

The two behemoths of men begin a lighthearted argument on whether or not Caustic was showing genuine feeling, his main argument being "never to settle for enough if you are capable of doing better." Octane opted to play his handheld console beside Elliot's shower, nearly causing the man to drop the towel on his waist once he stepped out.

Bloodhound and Crypto looked on to the mess of fighters in front of them. They turned off the television.

The hunter straightened their posture. Rows upon rows of scars traced upwards from the small of their back all the way to their neck. Crypto instinctively leaned in closer, only to catch their attention.

He didn't seem fazed. "Tell me a story." He pointed at a set of scars that had been overlapping each other. "About any of them."

Bloodhound grinned. They stood up and headed towards their cubicle. "Only if you beat me in a round of chess."


End file.
